Material Things
by vintagedoxy
Summary: [Bri:Jus] One shot. Brian contemplates the past with Justin. His feelings and his needs. Set at the end of season three.


**Title: **Material Things  
**Author: **Rachel Elizabeth  
**Email: **ceramicprincess (at) fanfiction (dot) net  
**Status: **One-shot  
**Genre: **Romance/Drama  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Warning: **Angst. Spoilers.  
**Summary: **(Brian/Justin) Brian contemplates the past with Justin. His feelings and his needs. Set at the end of season three.  
**Proviso:** Pfft. Gale Harold wouldn't be gay if I had anything to say about it.  
**Author's Comments: **I was editing some of my older stories, cleaning up and such and I came across this one shot. So, this came from me because I got annoyed with the ending of season three. Yea. That's all.  
**Feedback: **Usual.**  
Dedication: **To Chad, because his first remark about _Queer as folk_ was "we don't act like those asses!" even though he acts like Brian more than he knows.

* * *

You did that Brian Kinney thing again. That superior macho thing, but this time it turned out to be different than it had been. We were standing on the steps, rejoicing the victory over Stockwell. You had just given your keys to Michael and in that instant I realized more than anything why I loved you. You turned towards me and said you didn't have anything left.

I only looked at you and smiled. You still had me.

"Not everything," Justin told me. Whether I was still Brian Kinney or Rage, I guess I'd never know. I was miserable about you. I could never say the couple of words that needed to be said. Fuck, even through everything that we'd been through, I couldn't say three simple words to you that would make our lives easier. I didn't want to end up being just another dreamy eyed schoolboy.

Fucking hell. I had said that to you once. I wonder idly if you still remember that. Still remember how much I had hurt you, and how fucking much I felt the need to block out that entire fiasco from my brain. It still fucking hurt to think that I had lost you so completely.

That's right. I was fucking hurt. The almighty Brian Kinney, who could have any guy he could possibly want, hurt and devastated over a nineteen year old fucktard. I'll never forget that day in my office you came back to me and told me in so many words that you wanted me back.

It was like that with us.

We never verbally communicated to each other what we wanted. Neither of us could bear to be the one that had to stand down. Neither of us wanted to be, and neither of us wanted to admit to the other that we were wrong.

It would always be that way.

It was so fucking easy to just let things slip from my mouth to you without thinking about them when you left me for Ethan. Fucking schoolchild, that's what Ethan would always be to me. Nothing more than a petty schoolchild. I don't even know what happened with the two of you and I don't particularly want to find out. I'd be prone to hunt down Ethan and beat the fucking shit out of him.

So why was it so easy to show you in actions and deeds that I felt more for you than anyone I had ever felt for than to just say the words? Fucking hell. I was Brian Kinney and you were just Justin Taylor. It would be so fucking easy.

I was tired. Tired of the life that I had had where material things were the only things that mattered to me. The more material items that I had the more I realized the only thing in the world that I would ever need was you. The fucking problem with that was explaining things to you, even if you could read my eyes. Even if you knew what I was thinking in my head. It didn't fucking matter, because I _wanted_ to say those things to you out loud that you had always wanted to hear.

That you had heard from a low-life like Ethan.

How annoying was it that a fucking college student could say the things to you that you needed to hear, but I could never even think them inside my own head.

I couldn't think them.

I couldn't explain why I couldn't just let my feelings out to you. Fuck. You are Justin. You are everything that I could possibly want. You are the material item that I will need in this life.

I _need _you to be the dreamy eyed schoolboy. That is what makes you Justin.

_I need you._

If nothing else, I could only communicate this through my eyes. I guess that is the closest I will ever get to that sort of emotion. You grab hold of my shoulders and hold me like that, resting your head on top of mine.

Material wealth is nothing without you.

You, you had taught me that.

I wanted to be your Rage.

I wanted to save the world.

For you, if for no one else.


End file.
